


bad things (always saw them coming for me)

by EtuBrutus



Category: Cemetery Boys - Aiden Thomas
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Gods AU, I wanted the gang here but maybe in another oneshot, M/M, Oneshot, enjoy this cute little universe, it's cute and gay that's all I got guys, no beta we die like catriz, wrote this shit in one sitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28057809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtuBrutus/pseuds/EtuBrutus
Summary: There's blood staining his skin, the remains of what was probably an old band shirt stuck to his torso. Short hair, dark eyes, wide, like his own must be. Broad shoulders, a baseball bat held by the centre.Beautiful, Yadriel's mind supplies, unnecessarily.(As it turns out, gaining divinity is less like winning a rat race, and more along the lines of 'sort-of-marriage-ceremony-in-a-place-that-shouldn't-exist.')or, a Gods AU
Relationships: Julian Diaz/Yadriel Vélez Flores
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	bad things (always saw them coming for me)

There can only be two children, from all the families combined, who make it to divinity. (They're technically children, but the common term is _fledgelings,_ because there's only ever two outcomes to the final test.)

Either they live, learn to fly, or fall. 

Yadriel doesn't plan on falling. (He wouldn't mind, though. Either way, he's getting away from his family, and one path is just... infinitely longer than the other. It shouldn't make a difference.)

(It does.)

The brujx are a noble line of divinity-seekers. It made them sound wishy-washy in front of the humans, until they began keeping a cemetery in central L.A to portray a different profession. Lady Death (La'Muerte) hadn't complained, had drawn others to the graveyard to keep the money flowing, but that isn't what the family does primarily.

Oh, no. They created soldiers, and healers, more powerful than those of the spirit-seekers.

Yadriel considered himself lucky to be a fledgeling. Being accepted by the brujx was never an issue, that way - they'd keep their distance, from him and the other few his age who'd go through the trials. Chances were they'd die before the age of twenty, and so him being trans, gay, hadn't changed the fact that nobody but his father and brother gave him a second thought, beyond _what a pity, Enrique's kid is one of the chosen_. 

On the night of the trials, Yadriel doesn't bother learning the other fledgelings' names. _A waste of time,_ Diego had told him, voice shaky. His brother hadn't cried. Maritza had crushed him in a hug.

He sends a brief prayer, doesn't give a shit about where it ends up, to his mother, Camila. Either he'll join her in the afterlife or - 

Yadriel doesn't finish the thought. There's no time, or warning, and -

The trials are not fast, or easy, or memorable. 

The night is shroud in mist, and the spray of blood mixes with it, creating a smog of sweet-smelling pink air that chokes him whenever he finds time to take a breath. 

He remembers a weight in his hand, reacting instinctively to assailants, and _this is all part of the test,_ he thinks once, before being consumed by the chaos around him. When there's time, he breathes without gagging, glancing around his surroundings, but it's too dark to see the other children.

Fledgelings, he corrects. They're nowhere in sight. Yadriel expels all memory of the things he is killing, except for his hands, his muscles, which remember their weak points and how to dismantle them. 

Just this one night, he think in between breaths. After this night, you don't need to remember any of this.

They come for him again, and his head is throbbing, and he is ready with the weapon in his hand, though he does not see any of it.

The last test, Yadriel assumes, is what's happening now. His eyes feel as though they should be heavy, but adrenaline and brujx magic runs through his system, a strong stimulant. 

There's four - no, three of them at a central dais, inscriptions insignificant right now, because the fucker with dyed red hair from one of the spirit-seeking families just slit the throat of a girl who'd smiled at Yadriel when he'd come out of the closet. She falls to the floor, covered in both her blood and whatever the four of them managed to kill.

It's not the girl or the red-haired hobo who Yadriel focuses on. It's the boy standing on the opposite side of the dais.

There's blood staining his skin, the remains of what was probably an old band shirt stuck to his torso. Short hair, dark eyes, wide, like his own must be. Broad shoulders, a _baseball bat_ held by the centre.

 _Beautiful,_ his mind supplies, unnecessarily.

He looks straight into Yadriel's eyes. And it's not a threat. For that moment, they understand each other perfectly. _It's time to end this,_ they think, and two pairs of eyes snap to the asshole with the red hair, who must be more scared of Yadriel than of the baseball boy, because he goes for the latter. 

It takes a handful of seconds to crush his skull and impale him twice in the gut. He goes down, quietly. 

And then it's even quieter. Except for the sound of their breathing, heavy and on the edge of hysterical, because there's only two of them.

 _Two._ That means - the test must be over. They're the last fledgelings left. Only two ascend to divinity, those were the rules he's heard all his life.

Yadriel feels, suddenly, like he's going to keel over and puke, but then he feels a hand on his arm, using him as a weight, someone leaning against him - the baseball boy, who looks in equally bad shape (and he's still _beautiful,_ what the hell - )

Is this it? They've finished the final test, there's nothing else to do except stand on the dais figuring out how to purge the entire night from memory.

Yadriel looks down at the weapon in his hand. It's a long, thin blade. No wonder it'd been comfortable to hold - like a portaje, but more savage, more capacity for harm. 

There's a golden light, enveloping them, suddenly. Yadriel might be sick, but the air he tries inhaling pushes the sensation down, away, and stings his body in the places he must have been injured. It heals him, in the most painful way possible, and he clenches his teeth to stop from crying out, but there's nobody else around.

Where'd the boy go? 

He stumbles to stand somewhere new, brighter, without the taste of blood in the air. There's lots of light, lot's of gold and soft orange, more of the abstract concept of a comforting place that anything real, but Yadriel is real.

Yadriel isn't the same as he was yesterday. He turns when he hears a sound to his left. It's the boy (thank _god_ ) with the baseball bat, and he's looking around, until they meet eyes again, and Yadriel shouldn't accept the comfort the guy's presence brings him, but he does.

As it turns out, gaining divinity is less like winning a rat race, and more along the lines of 'sort-of-marriage-ceremony-in-a-place-that-shouldn't-exist.'

Two separate beings hold Yadriel and the boy's wrists, loosely, and draw them forward. La Muerte is there, surprisingly, but she is not the one who says, "These two chosen have survived the mortal trials presented to them, and will be, en este auspicioso momento, given the gift of divinity.'

There's no one person saying it to them, just like there's no one being drawing the two of them forward. 

The light around them begins to warp, or ripple, reacting to something happening, and Yadriel can feel it too, in the thing holding his wrist. Warm, electric, spreading from there throughout his body. There's still blood on his hands, arms, and judging by the other boy, on his face as well, but it's momentarily washed away by whatever's happening to them. 

The impulse to jerk his hand away from the _thing_ 'gifting' them divinity is drowned out by the new warmth in his chest, like falling asleep or waking up, the moment where he's in-between consciousness.

Yadriel feels like something is being burnt out of him, and into him at the same time. 

Eventually, the things holding their wrists lets go, but not before drawing to each other, from Yadriel to the other boy, and vice-versa, like hands clasping. It leaves a - a line of gold between them. 

It's not real, but then, none of this feels real. A thread of gold, from Yadriel's wrist, to the boy's, weighing nothing. The boy looks up from where he's standing to the left, surprised, eyes wide, searching for Yadriel's. 

(Yadriel wonders when they started doing this, searching each other out. They've never even _spoken_ before, he's barely seen him with the families - )

The voice says, with finality and something akin to amusement or pride, "Yadriel Vélez Flores, of the family brujx,"

and he -

his head feels as though it's imploded -

his eyes burn with _heat,_ there's _gold everywhere -_

(the warm feeling from before, stemming from his wrist, moves through his veins, Yadriel can feel it, hot and powerful and _alive -_ )

"- and Julian Diaz, unaffiliated. You may both take your ranks among the divine, y vivirá para simpre en la surface of the mortal realm."

Yadriel draws himself out of the feeling to look over at the boy - _Julian Diaz -_ who's eyes and skin and hands glow with the force of a nebula, beautiful and burning, and god, Yadriel doesn't really want to look away. 

Julian blinks a few times, and turns his head to Yadriel, as though he'd been watching him the entire time. 

And, for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, they catch each other's eyes, and stay like that for a few moments. Julian smiles, slightly, blood still splattered across his face, and Yadriel tries doing the same. He's sure he looks just as bloody and strange, but then the guy looks down to their wrists, and back up, as if to say, _well, might as well, right?_

Somehow, Yadriel knows what he's suggesting. He complies, and reaches his hand out to meet Julian's halfway, the golden line between them growing brighter and shorter the nearer they get.

The moment his fingers touch the other boy's (the first time he's touched him) they're back down to the dais, back where they'd been at the end of the final test. 

But it's different, now. They're both new - divine? - and the golden thread doesn't go away once they let go. 

Julian looks around, breathes out a few times, and clasps his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. Yadriel can barely believe what they just did, _where_ they just were, but walks over to the guy, anyway.

Raises his hand. The golden line doesn't waver. 

Eventually, Julian opens his eyes. When he does, Yadriel is standing two feet away, both of their weapons on the ground. Somehow, the corpses, all the remnants of the trials, are gone. No fledgelings remain from tonight (except the two of them, but they're hardly 'fledgelings' anymore.)

They meet eyes. Yadriel says, quietly, "I don't think we've made proper introductions yet," and smirks. "I'm Yadriel. From L.A. I go to Westbrook High."

Julian doesn't go halfway. He's full on grinning when he replies with, "It's a pleasure. You can call me Jules. I go to Westbrook, too."

"In L.A?"

"Yep."

_What are the odds?_ Yadriel teases, and Julian hears without him saying it. They both feel the thrumming under their skin.

_Hell of a coincidence, right?_

They're both grinning, and Yadriel figures that maybe this _is_ what divinity is supposed to feel like. 

**Author's Note:**

> literally wrote this at midnight in one sitting to break hiatus, hope you guys enjoyed. sorry if I got the Spanish wrong, or if any of this au was offensive. like I said, midnight, one sitting. 
> 
> as is obvious, you look gorgeous today. drop a kudos, leave a comment, have a great night ;)
> 
> (also, thanks to @angelicflowergay on Tumblr for leaving the nice rb that made my write this trainwreck au, ur one of my fave mutuals :P)


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